Angel With A Shotgun
by Nerdy Exorcist
Summary: Paloma Kale, an expert with guns but a rookie hunter, runs into Sam, Dean and Castiel while on a case in Montana. She doesn't usually work well with others, but she agrees to help them with the case.
1. Chapter 1

Paloma

 _Salt Lake City, Utah_

I park my Cadillac in my driveway, exhausted from my latest hunt in Oregon. I open the car door and step out, my bloodstained boots clack against the concrete. I guess I have to get rid of these boots, which is kind of depressing; they're my favorite pair.

Walking through the front door, I pull my hair out of its loose ponytail, the red waves fluttering over my shoulders. I pull my boots off and throw them in the trash. I yawn as I take my jacket and my bloodstained t-shirt off. I guess I have to get rid of the shirt, too.

After throwing away the shirt, I run up the stairs and into my bedroom. I turn on the shower and get undressed. Stepping into the shower, I flinch at the sudden blast of hot water. I lean my head against the wall, letting the hot water ease my aching muscles.

The hunt I just returned from was the most exhausting hunt I've ever experienced; a huge vampire nest, sixteen at the most, were killing off everyone in Astoria. Being the only one not occupied, I had to take the vampire nest on by my lonesome.

It was a successful hunt; it didn't take long to take them down. It resulted in a few minor injuries and my favorite boots and shirt being stained, but it was worth it.

I lift my head off the wall and turned around, letting the hot water hit my face. I grab the soap and start washing the dried blood off my body. The hardest part is the fingernails: I just can't get the blood out from underneath.

After getting most of the blood off, I turn off the shower and dry off. I change into pajamas and step out of the bathroom. I walk into my room and flop on the bed. Snuggling into my pillows, I close my eyes and drift off into a peaceful sleep. But of course, the peaceful sleep doesn't last long.

The ringing of the phone echoes throughout the quiet house. I groan and sit up, searching blindly through the dark for the phone. Finally finding it, I hold it up to my ear and speak.

"Who are you and why are you calling me in the middle of the fucking night?" I snap.

"Woah, calm down Paloma." The male voice replies. _Randall_.

"Randall, what the eff do you want? I just got back from a job in Oregon and I need my sleep."

"I was going to tell you about another job, but I guess you don't want to hear it." He says. Randall is the person I ask about jobs. If you need a job, he always has one ready for you.

"Yeah I do, but at," I look over at the clock. "2:35 in the morning? Really? Don't you sleep or something?"

"I'm nocturnal." Even though I couldn't see him, I was 90 percent sure that he was smiling. "Anyway, should I explain the job?"

I ponder this for a moment. "Eh, why not? I'm already awake and I'm probably not going to sleep anytime soon."

I hear him laugh on the other line. "There has been a string of murders in Bozeman, Montana," Randall begins. "They seem to have no connections, but we can never be too sure."

"So you're saying you want me to check it out?" I ask while yawning.

"That's correct." I sigh and lean my head back.

"Alright, I'll do it."

"Great. I'll call you with more information in the morning." He rustles papers on the other line.

"No need. I'm going to get ready and head out now. Go ahead and give me more info." I put Randall on speaker and put on actual clothes as he explains what he knows.

I grab my duffel bag out of my closet and place it on my bed. I reach down underneath my bed and pull out a giant briefcase. I open it and take out my hunting gear; salt, lighters, pistol, shotgun, knives, etc.

I say goodbye to Randall and hang up the phone. Putting on a pair of combat boots, I double check my gear. I zip up my duffel bag and run down the stairs and out the door, not caring to lock the door. I slide into the Cadillac and put my bag in the passenger seat. I start the car and drive off.

"6 hours away, huh?" I say to myself. "Not too bad…"

I drive away from Salt Lake City and head to what awaits me in Montana.


	2. Chapter 2

Paloma

 _Bozeman, Montana_

I haven't been this tired in a long time. When I check into the inn and get my room, I literally drop my bags at the threshold, shut the door and fall asleep on the couch.

I wake up an hour and a half later, still exhausted but better than I was before. I get up and change into my 'I totally work for the FBI' outfit. I grab my small purse and stuff my small dagger and my FBI ID card inside. I run out outside and into my car. Driving away, I mentally go over the information that Randall provided me with.

 _Maye Warburg and Francis Jersey were killed by what the police believe is a bear. But their hearts were ripped out, so it couldn't have been a bear. Yesterday, Xavier and Pamela Knowle were murdered; both their hearts ripped right out of their chests. Claw marks were found on all victims. Based on the information I have, it's most likely a werewolf._

I spent so much time thinking, I didn't realize I arrived at the first murder scene. I park and turn off the car, brushing my hair out of my face. I take a deep breath and climb out of the car.

I rush over to the closest policeman and pull out my badge. "Agent Delaney Cooper," I say seriously, showing the officer my badge.

He looks at the badge then back at me and nods. He lifts up the police tape and I crawl under.

"Y'know, three other agents are already here." He says to me. I turn around, surprised, and look at him. "I don't understand why the hell the FBI is interested in these murders."

"Who are the other agents, officer?" I ask politely.

He scratches his chin, thinking of their names. "Agents Hansport, Lancaster and Oliver." He replied, pointing in the direction of the agents.

I look at the agents. One of them is about 6'4" with long, brown hair. The other two are shorter, and one is wearing a trench coat. I stiffen up and thank the officer. I stalk over to them, trying to look as serious as humanly possible.

I stand next to the tallest one, looking up at him. My god, he's like a fucking moose. He notices my staring and looks back at me.

"Hey," He says quietly.

"H-hello." I stutter. I shift uncomfortably, feeling the awkwardness between us. It's a few minutes before he responds.

"Not to be rude or anything, but who are you exactly?" He asks me, looking at me like I have three heads.

I take out my badge and show him. "Agent Delaney Cooper."

"Hmmm…" He stares at it for a couple seconds, then elbows the two agents next to him. He whispers something to the agents, they whisper back and direct their attention towards me.

The one with the amazing green eyes speaks first. "Agent Cooper, I'm Agent Hansport. And these are my colleagues, Agent Lancaster and Agent Oliver."

I shake all of their hands and nod. "Nice to meet you all."

Agent Hansport speaks again, "So what do you think of these murders, Agent?"

I look past him at the mutilated bodies, both of their internal organs still spilled on the asphalt. Workers at the morgue pick up the organs and put them into body bags.

 _Poor Xavier and Pamela._ I think to myself.

I let my thoughts get lost in the jumble of other thoughts in my brain. I look back at Hansport and breathe out.

"I don't think it was a bear attack." I say sternly. They don't look surprised, which is strange. I thought that they would be a little scared.

"What do you think it is, then?" The agent with the trench coat, Agent Oliver, asks.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Definitely some kind of wolf."

The agents all look at each other, then look back at me.

"Do you three have some kind of telekinetic chat going on right now?" I put my hands on my hips and stare them straight in the eyes.

Agent Lancaster smiles. "No, no. We are just considering your thoughts on the cause of the murder."

"Well, let me know when you've thought about it." I say, taking my card out of my purse. I hand it to Agent Hansport. "I'm heading over to the morgue to see the other vics."

I'm about to walk away when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Agent Hansport stands right behind me, his humongous hand on my shoulder.

"Yes?" I ask him.

He lets go and coughs. "Well, we're about to head over there too."

"We are?" Lancaster says, confused.

"Yes…we are." Hansport says through gritted teeth. He clears his throat again. "Would you like a ride there?"

"Um…no I'm good." I look at him suspiciously. "I'll see you there."

I walk away, feeling their stares hot on my back. They seem…suspicious of me. Maybe they somehow know I'm a hunter?


	3. Chapter 3

Dean

"Agent Cooper?" I say, laughing as the strange agent gets into her car. "More like Agent Bullshit. I know a fake badge when I see one."

Sam looks down at me. "You know, I think I've seen her before," he comments.

"Really? I've never seen her before." I joke. Sam's about to speak again, but I shush him and turn my attention back to the crime scene.

"Hey, you know what Cooper or whatever-her-name-actually-is said about it being a wolf?" I ask. Cas and Sam nod in unison. "Well, I think she's right."

Cas says, "You can see deep claw marks on their torsos. They've probably on the other victims as well."

I nod. "I guess we go meet up with the mystery girl and check out the morgue."

They nod and we all head to the impala.

Paloma

I park across the street from the morgue, preparing myself. I absolutely despise morgues. The smell of antiseptic spray mixed with the smell of decaying carcasses doesn't go well with my stomach.

Taking a deep breath, I get out of the car and run across the street. I look to the left, then straight ahead, not paying attention to my right. At the last minute, I look to my right and see an impala inches from where I'm walking. The impala stops with an earsplitting screech.

Agent Lancaster and Agent Hansport poke their heads out the window.

"So sorry, Agent!" Lancaster apologizes, waving slightly. I smile weakly, then look at Hansport leaning outside the driver's window.

"Hey Princess, watch out next time! I almost damaged my baby!" He yells, smirking.

 _That bitch…_! I scream internally.

I flip him off as I walk to the sidewalk. I hear him laugh as he parks right behind my Cadillac. I hope he doesn't drive into it.

The three agents climb out of the car and run over to me, Hansport bringing up the rear. When he catches up, we all travel over to the morgue. I walk behind Lancaster and Oliver, Hansport next to me.

"You know, I've never seen you at HQ before." Hansport remarks.

"Um…I'm never there. Always on field missions." I say unconvincingly. Oliver looks back at me, like he's trying to figure out who I am.

Hansport looks at me with distrustful eyes. He seems highly suspicious of me, more than before. The only one not questioning me is Lancaster.

We enter the morgue, the fumes already filing my nostrils. I try not to gag as Lancaster opens the cabinet holding the first vic. He puts the body onto the dissecting table and opens the bag.

The body is so mutilated, the vic is barely recognizable. A huge hole in her chest reveals her broken ribs. Deep, bloody claw marks cover her abdomen, torso and limbs.

I put on latex gloves and open the body bag more. I start to point out the claw marks on her bodies.

"She was obviously struggling to get away." I say, running my fingers over the claw marks. "The claw marks are a bit smaller than a bear's, so it must have been a wolf."

The agents look at each other and nod. They always seem to do that.

Lancaster speaks first, "I think you're right."

I smile in triumph. This case may be easier than I thought. If it is a wolf, the possibilities are narrowed to two supernatural beings: werewolves and skinwalkers.

I take out my phone and take a few pictures; I'll study them when I'm back at the hotel. I look back to the guys and smile.

"I'm going to do research. We'll meet up again soon." I say, tugging at the zipper on my purse. It doesn't budge. I tug harder but it doesn't move. I pull on it as hard as I can.

The purse bursts open and all my belongings falls onto the floor. My dagger clatters to the floor, and all of the agents stare at it. My face flushes as the knife stops and the pentagram etched into it faces upward.

They look at me, not even fazed. What is their problem?!

"Hey there, fellow hunter." Hansport says slyly.

 _FELLOW HUNTER?!_


	4. Chapter 4

Paloma

"Y-you guys are hunters?" I stutter.

"Yeah, we are." Hansport, or whatever his actual name is, says. He looks confused. "I thought you would've recognized us."

"Why would've I recognized you three?" I snap.

"Because we're Sam and Dean Winchester. And Castiel." The one with the green eyes replies.

I don't register their names at first, but then my eyes widen in surprise. "The Winchesters? And the angel Castiel? Woah…" I say mesmerized.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you didn't recognize Sam here. He's like a friggin moose." Dean, I assume, laughs.

I laugh along and smile. "That's what I thought!"

Sam clears his throat, obviously embarrassed. "Anyway, who are you? I've never seen you before." He questions me.

"Uh…the name's Paloma. Paloma Kale."

Dean is about to speak when Sam interrupts him. "I know you." He announces.

"R-really?"

"Yeah. You are the best marksman in the country." He sounds a bit excited about this. I'm not _that_ famous.

"Uh…thanks." I blush a tiny bit and turn around. "I'm going to my hotel to do research. Bozeman Inn. Meet me there at 3. Room 7."

They nod, but the one in the trench coat, Castiel, just stares. I stare back at him as I walk out of the morgue. I run over to my car, get in, and drive away.

Sam

"Why haven't you said anything about that Paloma Kale character?" Dean asks.

"Why would I ever mention her?" I retort. He opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it automatically. "That's what I thought."

Cas has been staring at the door since Paloma left. I walk next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, man?"

He looks at my hand and responds, "Yes, I'm fine. I just have a strange feeling about that girl."

"There's nothing to be worried about, Cas." Dean says, clapping him on the back. "I bet she's nothing to be afraid of."

"Alright…if you say so." Cas says distantly. "I'm going to look at the crime scene from yesterday. You two head to Paloma."

Dean and I nod, and Cas flashes out right after. I take in a long breath and breathe it back out.

"I guess we go now." Dean suggests.

"Yeah, let's go." I lead the way out, Dean walking close behind. Dean stops and looks behind him. He grabs Paloma's knife off the ground and walks out, I follow him now.

Paloma

The guys arrive way too quickly. I pull on my yellow tank top while they knock on the door. I stalk over to the door and open it, the handle of my dagger almost coming into contact with my nose.

"Who in their right mind would knock on a door with a knife?" I ask sternly. He ignores my question and laughs. I roll my eyes and let them in.

Sam stands at the small table next to the kitchenette while Dean sits his ass down on the couch. He throws my knife in the air and catches it, just like it's a baseball. When he throws it again, I reach over and grab it in midair.

I twirl it in my fingers and slam down, a few inches from his shoulder. He looks at me in surprise and I smile.

"Scared yet?" I ask him. He doesn't say anything.

Intimidation, always a good way to make a good impression.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! I deeply apologize for not updating. I am so freaking lazy and I haven't been motivated to write. I start school in less than 4 weeks, but I'll try to update more before and after then. Thanks for understanding! I hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll try to update Damon's Selection soon!**

Paloma

I twirl my knife in my hand as I walk over to Sam. I grab the files Randall sent to the hotel and throw them onto the table in front of Sam.

"I collected background knowledge on all the victims and the witnesses." I explain. "But, there was only one eye witness; Lance Weare."

Sam nods and studies the papers. "These say that he was across the street at a bar from where the first murders were committed." He added, "he was also close to Francis Jersey, the second victim."

"Shou—" I was about to speak when the door slams shut. I turn around to see Castiel.

Dean sits up and looks at him. "Cas. Did you find anything at the crime scene?" He asks.

"Yes. I found this." He replies, holding up a metal necklace. A small black dagger charm hangs loosely at the bottom of it.

Castiel hands it to Dean, who takes a good look at it. He then turns to me. "Paloma, did you see anything in your research about this?"

I walk over and take it from him. "I don't think so," I say, examining it. "Maybe the witness would know something about it. Should we go question him?"

All three men look at each other, then back at me. I swear they are all communicating telepathically. It's really freaking creepy.

Dean is the one to speak first. "How about Paloma and I go check out this Weare guy while you two stay here and do research?" He says to Cas and Sam.

"That sounds reasonable to me." Cas replies.

Across the room, Sam shrugs. "Sure, that sounds fine." He agrees.

I cross my arms and nod. "Fine, just give me a minute to get some actual clothes on."

They all nod solemnly. As I walk to the bathroom, I grab my blazer and skirt off the bed. I enter the bathroom and lock the door.

I start to get changed, muttering to myself as I do so. "Why did I say I would help them? I wish I didn't…"

I'm about to fix my blazer when I hear a knock at the door. "Hey Princess, we don't have all day!" Dean yells.

I angrily open the door, his bright green eyes staring straight into my dull hazel ones.

"I'm 32, I'm no princess. I'm a fucking Queen." I retort.

He smiles at me. "You are a princess, Princess."

I glare at him, my stars liked daggers. He blocks the doorway, so I elbow him hard in the stomach. He immediately doubles over and moves out of the way. I smile triumphantly and walk out of the bathroom.

"Alright, one rule if you two are staying here without me," I start, looking at Cas and Sam. "If you look at any of my things, you all are dead. Got it?"

They nod in unison, giving me innocent looks. I stride over to the door, picking up my flats and sliding them on.

"Let's go Dean, we don't have all day." I claim, smirking at him. I saunter out the door into the fading daylight.

He grumbles unintelligibly and follows me out the door.

Dean

I shut the door behind me, still a bit in pain from Paloma's unusually strong elbow. She stands next to her Cadillac, waiting impatiently for me.

"No, no. We're taking the impala." I declare, leaning against my baby.

"No, we're taking my car." She snaps at me.

I glare at her, getting slightly irritated. "We're taking the impala."

She rolls her eyes and stalks over to my car. "Fine, but I'm driving." She claims, holding her hand out.

"Hell no. Nobody drives her but me." I respond, my words sounding like growling.

She raises her eyebrows at me, then walks to the other side of the car. "Jesus, you're really attached to your Impala." She mutters as she climbs into the car.

I climb into the driver's seat, still irritated. I start the car and back out of the hotel parking lot. She looks at everything in and out of the car, avoiding my eyes.

I've never really given her a decent look until now. Now that I have, I realize she is actually a very beautiful woman. The sunlight hits her red hair perfectly, making it shine brilliantly, and her eyes are the color of fresh hazelnuts. Thanks to her high cheekbones, she looks younger than 32.

"You should be paying attention to the road and not to me, Dean." Paloma taunted sternly, her voice penetrating my thoughts.

I turn my head back towards the road, almost not spotting the squirrel sitting in the middle of the road. I quickly veer away from it and let out an exasperated breath.

"And that's why you should pay attention to the road: you could've killed a small, defenseless animal." She mocked, laughing quietly to herself.

I ignore her mocking words and keep on driving. After a few minutes, I decide to ask her few questions.

"So, Paloma, where are we going exactly?" I ask.

"Uh…" she looks at the papers in her hands. "43 Clark Street. Just a few more miles and Clark Street will be on your left." She replies.

"Okay," I say. I change the subject. "Why did you become a hunter?"

She death stares me, like I've hit a sensitive subject. But she calms down a bit and takes a deep breath.

"My parents died when I was Two, thanks to a horde of vampires." Paloma began. "My grandparents took care of me. My grandfather was a hunter, but I always thought he meant a deer hunter. One time, when I was Eight, I asked him to take me on a hunt once, and he took me. That's when I learned that he wasn't a deer hunter. He taught me all about the supernatural beings, all the weaknesses and all about the weapons used to kill them. Actually, I still don't know everything."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah," she looks out the window as she responds. "Five years after I found out, when I was 13, my grandmother sent me to live with my uncle in Utah. She claimed it was safer there. But, little did she know, he had a huge gun collection. He taught me more about guns than my grandfather did, and that's how I became an adept marksman.

"I lived with him until I was 26, then I moved into my house in Salt Lake City. He let me take his collection with him. One day, I got a call from my grandfather, who was still hunting even at an old age. He needed help with a wendigo a couple miles away. I didn't make it in time; he died as I arrived. I promised I would avenge his and my parents' deaths."

I have no words. "Wow, that's hard. I'm so sorry."

She waves her hand, like she's dismissing me. "It's fine." She replies blandly.

I look at the road, concentrating on the street names while thinking about Paloma's story. _Why did she just tell me her whole story?_

"The roads right there." She speaks up, pointing at the road.

I turn on the street and stop at 43 Clark Street. I look at Paloma and say, "You ready?"

She nods solemnly. "I guess I am." She answers. "Let's go."

In unison, we get out of the car and walk over to the door.


End file.
